XXIII.—Dan’s Medal.
It was the day after the big storm that had made havoc even in the sheltered harbor of Beach Cliff, and so damaged “The Polly” in her safe moorings that six men were busy putting her into shipshape again. And dad’s other Polly was in an equally doleful mood.
It was to have been a day of jollification with Marraine. They were to have gone voyaging together over the summer seas, that were smiling as joyously to-day as if they had never known a storm. They were to have stopped at the college camp in Shelter Cove, where Marraine had some girl friends; they were to have kept on their sunlit way to Killykinick, for so dad had agreed; they were to have looked in on the Life-Saving Station, which Marraine had never seen; in fact, they were to have done more pleasant things than Polly could count,—and now the storm had fallen on her namesake and spoiled all.
“Never mind, Pollykins!” comforted Marraine, who could find stars in the darkest sky. “We’ll each take a dollar and go shopping.”
“Only a dollar, Marraine? That won’t buy much,” said Polly, who had walked in ways where dollars seem very small indeed.
“Oh, yes, it will! There’s no telling what it can buy in Jonah’s junk shop,” laughed Marraine. “I got a rusted tea tray that polished into silver plate, a blackened vase that rubbed into burnished copper. I should not wonder if he had an Aladdin’s lamp hidden somewhere in his dusty shelves.”
“Let us go look for it,” said Polly, roused into gleeful interest. “Oh, I’d love to have Aladdin’s lamp! Wouldn’t you, Marraine?”
“What would you wish for, Pollykins?” asked Marraine, softly.
“Oh, lots of things!” said Polly, perching in her lap. “First—first of all, I wish that I could keep you here forever and forever, darling Marraine!”
“Well, you have me for six weeks every summer,” laughed Marraine.